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Category Archives: sassoon
“A Subaltern,” Siegfried Sassoon
A Subaltern He turned to me with his kind, sleepy gaze And fresh face slowly brightening to the grin That sets my memory back to summer days, With twenty runs to make, and last man in. He told me he’d … Continue reading
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“A Working Party,” Siegfried Sassoon
A Working Party Three hours ago he blundered up the trench, Sliding and poising, groping with his boots; Sometimes he tripped and lurched against the walls With hands that pawed the sodden bags of chalk. He couldn’t see the man … Continue reading
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“The Tombstone-Maker,” Siegfried Sassoon
The Tombstone-Maker He primmed his loose red mouth and leaned his head Against a sorrowing angel’s breast, and said: ‘You’d think so much bereavement would have made ‘Unusual big demands upon my trade. ‘The War comes cruel hard on some … Continue reading
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“A Whispered Tale,” Siegfried Sassoon
A Whispered Tale I’d heard fool-heroes brag of where they’d been, With stories of the glories that they’d seen. But you, good simple soldier, seasoned well In woods and posts and crater-lines of hell, Who dodge remembered ‘crumps’ with wry … Continue reading
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“Blighters,” Siegfried Sassoon
‘Blighters’ The House is crammed: tier beyond tier they grin And cackle at the Show, while prancing ranks Of harlots shrill the chorus, drunk with din; ‘We’re sure the Kaiser loves our dear old Tanks!’ I’d like to see a … Continue reading
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“At Carnoy,” Siegfried Sassoon
At Carnoy Down in the hollow there’s the whole Brigade Camped in four groups: through twilight falling slow I hear a sound of mouth-organs, ill-played, And murmur of voices, gruff, confused, and low. Crouched among thistle-tufts I’ve watched the glow … Continue reading
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“To His Dead Body,” Siegfried Sassoon
To His Dead Body When roaring gloom surged inward and you cried, Groping for friendly hands, and clutched, and died, Like racing smoke, swift from your lolling head phantoms of thought and memory thinned and fled. Yet, though my dreams … Continue reading
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“Two Hundred Years After,” Siegfried Sassoon
Two Hundred Years After Trudging by Corbie Ridge one winter’s night, (Unless old hearsay memories tricked his sight) Along the pallid edge of the quiet sky He watched a nosing lorry grinding on, And straggling files of men; when these … Continue reading
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“They,” Siegfried Sassoon
They The Bishop tells us: ‘When the boys come back ‘They will not be the same; for they’ll have fought ‘In a just cause: they lead the last attack ‘On Anti-Christ; their comrades’ blood has bought ‘New right to breed … Continue reading
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“The One-Legged Man,” Siegfried Sassoon
The One-Legged Man Propped on a stick he viewed the August weald; Squat orchard trees and oasts with painted cowls; A homely, tangled hedge, a corn-stalked field, And sound of barking dogs and farmyard fowls. And he’d come home again … Continue reading
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